


The Traitor Prince

by taoris



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Isekai, Kenma harem, M/M, Might add more tags and pairings as the story progresses, Multiple Universe, TW for anxiety/paranoia, TW for forced vomiting, TW for murder (or attempts at it)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:28:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26226403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taoris/pseuds/taoris
Summary: Kenma Kozume lives a particularly normal life with an eight to five job until he gets into an accident and finds himself waking up as a prince. Aside from the body switch, Kenma seems to be entangled with the Prince's suitors from the neighboring kingdoms. However, before getting into this body, he finds out that “Prince Kenma” has an existing affair with Kuroo Tetsurou, one of his trusted generals and a childhood friend.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 15
Kudos: 52





	1. Resurrection

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is based on a prompt I put on twitter. I hope this is okay lol

**_Kozume Kenma. 23. Probably Dead._ **

Dying definitely didn’t have Kenma’s life flashing before him. It’s a swift transition where every color fades in a millisecond to pitch black, a total landscape of nothingness. There’s a weird pressure to his chest as if he’s sinking deep into a trench and a loud infuriating beep that doesn’t seem to end makes him want to scratch his ears away.

It stops after a couple of minutes and there it was: a reality that he has probably entered the void. His soul is probably lost, he thinks, and is surprised that he still bears his consciousness even in the afterlife. But what really is an afterlife?

Is it this blankness where he cannot see anything? The void with nobody but him in the aftermath of his death? Is he going to be stuck here forever after dying? For a moment he doubts he’s dead, but he’s sure he is. He saw it before his own eyes.

He’s about a good ten minutes earlier than usual for his shift, but he assumes it’s better to get to work early so he rides the 7:10AM bus en route to Shiodome.

There’s really nothing special about this day; he had the same bacon and eggs for breakfast prepared by his mother, there’s still the annoying fiber fuzzes on his jacket that can’t seem to be taken away manually by lint rollers, and his metro card has always been the same faulty one that it needed to be tapped twice on the entrance of the bus. It’s a regular day for a seemingly normal person like him. And it appears that his life has ended in a non-spectacular way too. 

Everything happened way too fast that Kenma was unable to take a mental note of what’s happening around him. All he could recall is the shock on his face when the old lady beside him gripped tightly on his shoulder at the sudden grinding collision of the vehicle against something very large. Then all of a sudden, they lose gravity before it all went black.

So, back to the afterlife. He will probably be stuck in this limbo until he sees a passage to heaven or hell, or maybe something similar. And if he turns out wrong, shall he be stuck here forever, it’s probably punishment for living such an uninteresting life. For not doing anything particularly exciting like skydiving or being a DisneySea employee. For settling in such a mediocre life and a boring, repetitive job. Maybe afterlife is the same with what he had lived through, only without color. He’s lived on earth for twenty dull years, what’s another forever of this?

“...ness? Are you awake?” A voice of a woman makes him jump from the void he’s standing on, not knowing where it’s coming from.

“Move aside, his highness is gaining consciousness! Bring the General!” It’s coming from a different voice this time, and Kenma tries to look around until a bright blinding light hits his vision.

Everything is blurry at first, and the pressure on his chest feels like it’s slowly escaping as he realizes he’s in a bright room.

“He regained consciousness, Kiyoko!” One of the women says, exclaiming in relief.

“I see it, Yachi. Yuuji has already called for the General.” The person who has been called Kiyoko says.

Kenma scrubs his eyes and tries to lift himself off the bed but the two ladies rush to his side, forcing him to lie back down on the mattress. Which he now notices is covered with velvet sheet. It isn’t really the most comfortable thing in the world, but have hospitals always been this posh? He hasn’t been in one since he busted his lip and had to get a few stitches when he accidentally knocked himself on an opening door, so he cannot remember if they use luxurious materials to emergency patients like him.

“I’m sorry...” His throat is dry and he realizes this as his tongue almost sticks to the roof of his mouth. “I think I need a call...”

“Your highness,” Kenma’s eyebrows furrow at the smaller woman’s words. “We already called for him.”

Kenma is a little lost. He still hasn’t absorbed everything that’s happening and the nurse before him isn’t making sense to him right now. Called who? Was it his doctor? His father who lives in Nagoya with his brother? He doesn’t understand.

He’s taken a mental note of the things that has made sense to him so far. First, he is alive. He definitely did not die from the bus accident. Second, he woke up to two nurses with one of them calling him “Your Highness” which Kenma assumes is only used in medieval times—and this one, he doesn’t understand why—and lastly, the bed he’s lying on is velvet. That’s an important factor to him because it’s a kickstart to everything that’s weirdly occurring at the moment.

“I’m sorry, please just call me Kenma.” He says, offering a small smile to the woman who widens her eyes at him. “I’m a little disoriented so can you please tell me what’s up?”

“We are not sure what you’re talking about, Your Highness.” The taller of the two butts in, looking at him intently.

“Can I just call my mother? I need to tell her that I’m here.” While desperation is apparent on his voice, he just wants his mother not to worry. Maybe the accident’s on the news already and she’s dead worried about him.

“The Queen?” The black haired woman, taller of the two who he now doubts is a nurse gives him a strange look and Kenma could now confirm that something is wrong. “Your highness wants to... request for the presence of her majesty?”

 _“This just doesn’t make sense.”_ Kenma mutters to himself.

He’s getting the context of things by the way the two women are talking to him, but his brain is refusing to acknowledge it. He just does not want to believe that any of it is real. Maybe he really is dead or this is just all a fever dream after that accident.

The creaking of the door stops Kenma from his existential crisis and before him enters the most disturbingly attractive man he has ever seen in his life. He’s pretty sure his mouth opens in surprise at how surreal the person is before him

“Leave.” The deep voice seem to reverberate in the huge room and the women scurry away in fear. He just stands there, right before Kenma, expressionless while staring.

When the door closes, the man comes closer, a frown on his face and Kenma is too shocked at the pain that he sees on it.

“I have been so worried.” The deep voice takes Kenma offguard, jumping at the sound and looking at him with widened eyes.

“I’m okay, don’t worry.” He starts. Kenma squirms to himself as the man puts his hand over his. “But I think you’re mistaking me for—”

“Kenma.” The man before him firmly says and things get even more confusing to him. “What did he do to you?”

“W-who?”

“Did he take your memories away?” While this man is intimidatingly and unbelievably handsome, the way he clenches his jaw makes Kenma gulp in fear. “It’s me. It’s Kuroo Tetsurou. Your General. Do you remember?”

Kenma just shakes his head, unable to say a word.

The man, who calls himself Kuroo Tetsurou, Kenma’s General, closes his eyes as he sighs and Kenma feels so bad for him because he seems to be mistaking him for someone else. Someone else who has the same name as him. Who is also a prince, Kenma thinks.

Kuroo puts his hand on Kenma’s cheek, and leans into him, placing his forehead against Kenma. He freezes, unable to make sense of what the general is doing, all he knows is the warmth of his skin against his, how he can feel his breathing on his face, and every single thing about this is making Kenma extremely... weak.

“I will kill him. I swear revenge upon my fealty on you, your highness. I will find him and cut off his head. But not until he brings back your memory.” The way the General murmurs against him makes Kenma’s chest skip, but he pushes Kuroo away gently as he gives him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, your highness. If I may, let me tell you everything?”

“Can I go first?” Kenma now manages to talk, still feeling the drought in his mouth. “This is really weird but I think I’m not from around here.”

“Saints.” Kuroo curses. “He really damaged you.”

“Who is this he you’re talking about?” He asks, losing the thread of context he has put up in his mind with every single word coming out of this general’s mouth.

“The mage. You sought for him during the last solstice. I told you many times that the mage is a trickster. He does not give you any wishes without a trick up on his sleeves.”

“And why did I seek for the mage?” Still confused, Kenma feels like he’s suddenly a protagonist of a fantasy novel, out on adventure of finding out about himself and his enemies only he doesn’t have a single idea about what’s happening.

“Because you wanted the King dead.” The way Kuroo says it is very soft that Kenma feels like murder is something normal in this... world. “The King is selling you to the crown princes of the neighboring countries in exchange for access to more land.”

“I’m sorry?” Now he doesn’t know what’s worse: the murder or the child trafficking. Everything sounds so extreme he cannot believe his eyes at what’s unfolding before him.

“Kenma, I apologize I should explain this better. The thing is, the King is immortal. He’s lived for a hundred years. Sold a hundred of his kin to expand his power. Now he is doing it again, this time it’s you.” Kuroo gives him a pained expression and Kenma wants to pat him on the back, only he knows it’s not probably going to be effective because this man seems to be an Achilles incarnate, pats on the back have the effect of falling dust on him.

“I don’t want to be sold, right?” Kenma asks and Kuroo nods in agreement.

“You have always hated him. Plotted his death. Until you heard of the mage.” Kuroo clenches his jaw again, but this time, there’s no more anger on his face but just so much hurt that Kenma could not imagine how he must have blamed all of it to himself. “I tried to stop you, but you’re you, Kenma. You’re the lynx. You know how to function on your own, plot on your own, sometimes I don’t know how to read your mind. But thank the saints, I still have you with me.”

Kenma gulps, not knowing what to say. But he thinks he’s catching up with that’s happening now. He seems to have become a Prince who wants to kill his father, but ended up being replaced by a total stranger. And he doesn’t have a single idea how to deal with this fact.

“Can I explain now?” He asks and Kuroo nods at him. He takes his time trying to compose himself and collect all of his thoughts before starting. “My name is Kozume Kenma. I’m 23 years old. Or I was.”

“That is correct.” Kuroo confirms. “You remember?”

“No! I mean, I do! But, the thing is... I am not a prince, okay?” Kuroo seems to be unfazed and Kenma sighs in frustration. “I told you I am not from here, I’m just a data encoder for some stupid low-paying tech firm. I was riding the bus on my way to work and then I got into an accident. The next thing I know I’m here.”

Kuroo stares at him in disbelief, or maybe he’s just not understanding a bit of what he’s talking about.

“The mage... The one you’re talking about. He might have done something to replace the Prince’s spirit... Soul... I don’t know. But what I know is, I’m a regular person who does an eight to five job and I was never a prince. Not even in our school plays. I was always the tree. Or the clock. Or something insignificant.” Kenma is near giving up, but Kuroo stands up and starts pacing back and forth. “You okay?”

“You’re not the prince?” Kuroo says, and Kenma nods, an apologetic expression painted his face.

“Shouldn’t we look for him?” Kenma says. “Maybe it’s best we go together, let’s search for the prince. Then let’s go to the mage and demand him to bring the Prince back to his body and I...” He pauses at the sudden realization of where he will be placed. “I... Die.”

“You cannot get out of the Palace.” Kuroo says. “The suitors from the neighboring kingdoms are arriving tonight.”

“Oh.” Does that mean he has to act like the Prince? How will the Prince get back to this body? And will he die if everything goes back to normal? “But wait... If the Prince has suitors, and if he gets sold to... a kingdom... What happens to you?”

“I will serve his highness until my last breath. It is my sworn fealty. I am tied to him as he is to this land.” Kuroo says and stares right at him. “Stay here in the palace, for now. I will look for the mage myself and search for his highness.”

“What... What am I supposed to do? What if they find out that I’m... not the Prince?” He’s now afraid that he would be left alone. He’s clueless about this entire Prince thing, and everything is confusing him. There’s just so much information to take and he doesn’t even know how to be prince-like.

“Saints. I’ll help, okay? I will tell you what to do. But here’s a thing. Never bend to any of the suitors.” It sounds like a threat more than an advice, and Kenma raises his brow at Kuroo.

“Are you jealous?” He teases. “Are you jealous that this body will like someone else?”

“The Prince’s affairs are not my business.” Kuroo says defensively. And Kenma knows the subject is dropped at that instant.

“Then... How do we start?”

“Kenma, first you should learn how to act like yourself.” Kuroo has a smirk on his face and Kenma does not know how to make sense of everything. But playing along should be fine.

* * *

**_His royal highness Kozume Kenma, seventh son of the current century’s King Nekomata. 23. Cursed._ **

The machine hums simultaneously with his slow breathing. His temple is throbbing and his throat is extremely dry, a feeling he only felt when he was once poisoned as a child. A heavy feeling weighs on his chest. His stomach is in pain too.

The prince is aware of his surroundings, but he only feels numbness on his entire body. A translucent tube is attached on his mouth that is freeing his airways, yet there is still discomfort on his rib that cannot seem to go away. When he breathes, there is a stabbing pain on the bottom of his chest. 

Kenma tries to open his eyes, but his lids could only go as high at a good half of his field of vision. He cannot control his body and he wants to scream in frustration, but his energy is draining him. He feels so weak and helpless and he doesn’t know where he is. Is he dying? Did Baghra trick him into becoming a lifeless body that he is in right now?

How he got here is still a mystery to him, as the Prince cannot recall anything upon opening his eyes. The only thing he could remember is the mage appearing in his quarters, and everything else after that is a blur.

The prince gives up trying to move his hands and legs, he closes his eyes and calms himself. He must be collected first in able to figure out how to get out of here. He has to. He still doesn’t have his father killed. Saints disown him, but Kenma would spend his very last breath trying to kill that son of a bitch.


	2. King & Lionheart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma learns how to depend on himself as the Prince and Kuroo faces a new task that will open him to an entirely new world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AKA a chapter dedicated for character study. Wanted to get in-depth with some familiar faces. And introduce new ones, too!
> 
> Huge thanks to Noemie for beta reading this! (@_no0emiie on Twitter and no0emie here on ao3, please read her wonderful works)
> 
> Important! There are some major trigger warnings for this chapter: tw for anxiety/paranoia, forced vomiting, murder attempt(s), depiction of violence.

**_His royal highness Kozume Kenma, seventh son of the current century’s King Nekomata. 13. Alive._ **

As the son of a King bound to live forever, his royal highness, Prince Kozume Kenma does not receive many threats to his life. It is quite popular in neighboring kingdoms though. A sudden passing of a royalty next-in-line to the crown, an assassination from an expedition, murders within their own bloodline. It’s a fun bloodbath Kenma would love to participate in one day. 

But in this Kingdom, he’s as useless as the next disposable soldier to his father. There’s no bounty on his head as he is not even going to inherit the throne. He will just die when he gets old enough or when the King decides to, by then maybe a new Queen will be crowned or a concubine will bear his majesty’s next child. A new inclusion to the bloodline of the Kingdom of Nekoma to live an absolutely unremarkable life as a Prince or a Princess.

It’s a pathetic cycle but he knows his father has earned so much through it. Most of his brothers and sisters were sold to other royalties in order for his majesty to expand his wealth and power. Kenma’s just waiting to either be sold or killed by his father when the time comes.

However, things changed on his thirteenth birthday. Events like these are opportunities taken advantage of by his father to invite Dukes, Generals, Marquesses, Barons, and Earls from faraway regions to talk about their political ties, their common interests like expanding the land, or even their drowning economy. While not mandated, Kenma takes a huge interest in the talks of the elders. He’s always fantasized about doing their work, managing lands, exploring political ties from neighboring kingdoms, analyzing and debating on how to improve trading and making sure the Kingdom is abundant with resources. It all just sounds so smart and exciting to him.

Though no matter how smart he wants to be, there are just things he cannot seem to understand. Like how linens should be priced higher on the market and how they should impose larger taxes on merchants. It just doesn’t make sense to Kenma so he spends the rest of the night eating every single thing that was served on his plate.

He’s on his first few bites of his last course when the Prince starts to feel dizzy. Excusing himself from the table where no single official paid him heed, Kenma brings himself to his quarters. He goes straight to the mirror and sees the veins on his neck turning purple, slowly creeping up from his collarbones, to his neck, and up to his jaw; a clear indication that he’s been poisoned.

The Prince is confused at first. Why would there be poison on his food? Who in the first place would want him dead? There’s no way it’d be his father, he thinks. Aside from being too young, he’s the only royal Prince alive. Unless... There’s already another one coming. But that’s not what he should focus on. Kenma mentally slaps himself and focuses on what he’s feeling. He’s dizzy, his head feels like a heartbeat throbbing at a pace that’s making him want to throw his head on the mirror. His mouth is dry and the texture on his tongue is getting sandy with every passing second, making it harder for him to breathe with a constricting throat.

The effect of the poison on his body is fast, but he knows that this would last for a couple more days before it consumes all of him and leaves him dead. The Prince is aware that panicking would make things harder for him, so he closes his eyes and tries to think of something. Anything that could help him take the poison out of his system.

He’s studied about it before. A poison that’s quick-acting but slow in killing a person is an organic one, not brought upon by magic. Organic poisons are used for torturing prisoners, it’s fed to them after being sentenced to death and usually takes more than a week to fully spread all over the body. On the other hand, a magical poison kills a person instantly without any symptoms like dizziness or difficulty in breathing. If the King wanted him dead, he would’ve had him ingest a magical poison and kill Kenma on the spot. He wouldn’t take such risks like keeping the Prince alive for another week.

Since he’s got about a week or more to live as the poison spreads in his body, Kenma does the thing he’s supposed to have done the moment he’s realized it: vomit. He proceeds to the small loo attached next to his quarters and crouches down on the wooden panel and releases almost everything he ingested this evening into the hole, hearing it drop all at once to the moat. He forces more of it to come out as he sticks two fingers in his mouth and pushes his throat so hard that he almost stabbed the back of his tongue.

His entire night is spent vomiting every single content from his stomach, and by the time he has returned to his room, he is so lightheaded that he isn’t able to remember how he managed to lift himself to his bed and fall into a slumber.

**_Kuroo Tetsurou, orphaned. 14. Barely alive._ **

The clang of metal against his suit sends a vibrating pain across his spine. Lowest ranking among his peers is Kuroo Tetsurou, an orphan who signed up for knightship thinking he could bypass the squirehood in an instant and gain access to the gentry by mere compliance in three months of training. Three months and a year later, Kuroo is still a squire. The Generals not recognizing his skills, or lack thereof, made Kuroo fall behind so much that another batch of squires in training has already entered the palaces, and there he is, still unable to pass basic tasks. 

The thing about the squire training is he has to politicize his way up by kissing the Generals’ asses and get through the daily beatings of a physical training that isn’t suitable for men his age. It’s brutal. It’s hours under the heat of the sun, screaming and grunting under a metal suit with constricted movements as he fling his sword until one of his arms falls off.

When Kuroo is knocked to the ground he hears collective cheers from the other squires, and he lies there like a broken toy, defeated, drenched in sweat with his back aching, and completely parched.

“You’re still bad at this, Tetsurou.” Teases Lev who extends his hand and pulls Kuroo up from the ground. He’s the squire who just squared up and sent Kuroo on his knees today. “How many times did I tell you to follow my advice—”

“If you can’t go on an offensive; deflect, dominate, distract, disarm, and disable.” Kuroo cuts him off and supplies. “I know it, Lev. I’d have it marked on my forehead soon, worry not. The sword just felt extra heavy today, and it’s way too hot in the training grounds. I’m not in the best shape.”

Lev looks at him blankly. “No one’s in best shape for war, Tetsurou. We should be prepared anytime.”

They get to the barracks and decide to settle on one of the flimsy wooden tables set mainly for dining purposes, but on busy times like this, it’s just used as a place for squires to let time pass by until they can get back on the training grounds once again. There are initiates, squires, and knights in the place. Resting, chatting, and even playing with one another. Kuroo pays them no heed as Lev continues on his nagging and sits beside him.

“Let’s train at midnight. I’ll have you take on the offense.” The silver-haired boy offers.

Kuroo slumps on the table, too exhausted to carry himself up and entertain the thought of off-hours training. “How many hours you’d let me sleep, then? We’re supposed to be cleaning armors by dawn.”

“War does not have a schedule, you lazy knight wannabe.”

“What are you so excited over war for?” He grunts. “I know we’re supposed to be fighting when the time comes but... is it really coming?”

The younger just rolls his eyes at Kuroo. Lev’s one of the promising squires who just entered the palace months ago and Kuroo’s found a comrade in the silver-haired boy younger than him. He’s extremely flexible and strong despite his tall and lanky figure, traits that Kuroo sees fit shall there really come a war. Sometimes, he wishes he had Lev’s abilities and enthusiasm, it might have already raised him to the gentry, living a lavish life as he drinks his night away in some fancy tavern.

“It will. Where I came from, war happens every day. My parents died there. My sister was captured. All that fuels me to keep going is war and to seek revenge for my family.” There’s a scary scowl on his face . Since they met, Lev’s enthusiasm about going to war has never faded. If it isn’t for Lev’s excessive sharing about how he got taken away from his family, Kuroo would have thought that the boy was born a soldier. But no, Lev nurtures every wound he’s gotten. He doesn’t hold his grudges. He lets it grow in him, making the scars of war a permanent part of his life. At thirteen years old, Lev is a warrior ready to let out a monster inside.

Later that night, the image of Lev with a thrilled smile over bloodshed haunts Kuroo. Further making him scared of advancing to knightship. He’s had opportunities before, but Kuroo has always done a thing or two to keep himself with the squires. He just initially wanted to be in the gentry. He had been a nobody, a petty thief in the market surviving day by day stealing from commoners and merchants. When recruits came from palace troops looking for new initiates to become squires, he did not spare a moment to sign himself up. 

At that point, Kuroo did not know that the path to becoming a Knight is hard, and being one will be much harder. And he’s scared; scared of what he’s turned into, scared of what he would be doing, scared of where he’s heading to. Right now, he’s seeing everything he’s fearing in Lev. 

He’s scared of becoming like Lev; anger running through his blood, hungry for vengeance. And before he sleeps, a question bugs him that he fails to answer, as it’s a thought that has never crossed his mind before: _Do monsters make war or does war make monsters?_

* * *

Kuroo is awakened the next day with the noise of other squires bumping into his bedpost. He realizes, half-asleep, that everyone is out and about, a little too noisy at an inconvenient hour. It’s not even time for equipment cleaning yet, but everyone looks like they’re already up.

“Tetsurou, wake up! The Prince is here!” One of the squires shakes him and Kuroo sits up, not bothering to change his attire as he steps out of their room.

When he gets to the hallway he’s surprised to see that a lot of other squires look like him, fresh out of bed and hair in complete disarray. There’s not enough time to prepare for surprise royal visits at such an ungodly hour of the day anyway. So he lines up with the other squires and looks at the General whose sweet dreams looked deeply disturbed.

“Everyone’s here already?” The General of the lower squires checks each familiar face, briefly passing Kuroo’s, and settling at the end of the line. 

They stand in complete silence for the next minutes that followed, patiently waiting for the Prince to arrive. He sees Lev on the other side who’s trying to stifle his yawn and Kuroo struggles in hiding his laugh.

The waiting extends for a couple more minutes until all squires straighten their backs, eyes fixated before them. Kuroo sights someone walking on his peripheral vision, a very pale and small child. He tries his best not to show any surprise on his expression as he notices that it’s the Prince. A familiar figure of a tall man who seems to be the General of the King’s first troop, accompanies him. They stop in front of the General of the lower squires, and the older speaks.

“We apologize for having to bother you at this time.” The General of the King starts. “The Prince has requested for the immediate assistance of two squires.”

Their General seems to be surprised at the request. It’s not unusual for royalty to request for squires, but assistance to his highness shall not be accommodated by lower squires. Squires like Kuroo are barely trained for such tasks. “It would be our honor, General.” the head of the lower squire responds. “But I’m afraid my men are not fit for such service. My men may be better for menial tasks... like armour cleaning.”

“The King did not give him permission to borrow my men, General.” The General of the King says and Kuroo couldn’t help but peek at the prince. “This is what we came here for. There’s also no such need for a Knight to assist his highness. A lower squire shall be enough.”

Why would his majesty refuse to let his highness seek for the assistance of the Knights? Are they needed somewhere else? Then why not give him the services of the higher squires, those in training to be actual knights? He squints harder and observes the Prince. He’s about a foot shorter than Kuroo, his black hair is covering a huge part of his face, and Kuroo could only view the pale lips of his highness. Is the prince, perhaps, sick?

“If that’s what his majesty wishes then, it would be my pleasure to give his highness my men.” The General of the lower squires gives them a tight smile and looks at the Prince. “You may choose anyone from these young lads, your highness. I assume they are around your age. If I may, I can refer you to my best fighters—”

“I want the two squires looking at me.” The prince says in a surprisingly authoritative voice.

“I’m sorry, your highness?” The General looks to the Prince’s back and notices two boys peeking at the prince. Kuroo’s eyes widen as the General of the lower squires lands his eyes on him. He immediately looks away and gets back to his position like everyone else. “Tetsurou Kuroo and Lev Haiba?” He mutters.

Kuroo manages to turn his eyes to Lev whose face looks enlivened.

“I don’t care about their names. I care that they’re curious enough to take a peek at my place. That’s the protection that I need. Curiosity is my requirement.” The Prince’s voice is hard and insistent, but also lacks energy that confirms Kuroo’s earlier concern. He is sick. Perhaps the Prince needs assistance while he’s not in his best shape?

“It’s settled then, your highness. Lev Haiba is one of our strong fighters in this cluster. But you may want to select somebody else as his partner, I might have to not let Tetsurou work under you. He’s one of my men who needs a little more sharpening around the edges.” He tries to bargain his squire. He knows Kuroo Tetsurou is older than most, and probably more capable in ways some squires are not, but he cannot just fight. It would be a disappointment shall there be a need for his highness’ guards to fight.

“I don’t need anyone else. Just the two of them would be enough. Send them to my quarters the soonest they can change.” Before the head of the lower squires could respond, the Prince and his accompanying general had already retreated, walking back to the main palace.

The General orders all of the squires to return back to their rooms, except for Lev and Kuroo. When there are only the three of them left, the General looks at the both of the squires, eyes squinting. “If I hear any funny tricks, the two of you shall face the consequences under my own hands. Do not put the Prince in harm’s way, and do not shame the name of the lower squires in front of the royalties. I have high expectations of you.” He says while looking at Lev, and Kuroo clenches his jaw. “But you better be careful.” The General then shifts his eyes to Kuroo, piercing stare burning right through the teenager’s skull. “The palace has more shadows than you think.”

* * *

The walk to the main palace from the squire hall is deafening in its silence but Lev has a renewed energy in every step as Kuroo follows his lead. Kuroo knows this is a step to _easily_ advance to knighthood, and Lev’s closer to his goal of becoming a knight and being in a troop, eventually being sent to war to fight. With his abilities, Kuroo’s sure he can be recruited in the King’s elite troops or become a general of his own, even.

“So,” Kuroo starts and Lev looks back at him. “Guess we’re stuck with each other.”

“Don’t you think it’s the call of fate, Tetsurou?” Lev’s childlike glee is making Kuroo even more anxious. If it’s a call of fate then it’s cornering him to his death. In a few years, when the Prince is of legal age, he’s free to build his own troop and appoint his own trusted General. While Lev will undeniably do great, Kuroo just can’t find the confidence in himself to be one of the Prince’s personal guards.

Regardless, Kuroo forces a smile and says, “Yeah. Yeah, it’s great. Also at least we’d skip the armour cleaning.”

Kuroo and Lev arrive at the Prince’s anteroom, a huge chamber adjacent to the Prince’s quarters. While it’s a large expanse of indoor space, the room is relatively empty save for a couple of paintings of the current royal family.

Lev knocks on the door to his highness’ chambers and the door violently opens, sending Lev and Kuroo jumping on their feet.

“Took you long enough.” The Prince that welcomes them is very pale in comparison to what he’s seen from earlier, his eyes are sunken in their sockets with dark underlines that look like he hasn’t slept for days. So was Kuroo right all along? Is the Prince really sick?

“We apologize, your highness. The General just had a few words before he let us leave the squire halls.” Lev supplies but the Prince only turns back, urging them to follow him inside.

The Prince stops in front of a table where a plate of an untouched food is placed. The prince looks at the two of them, calculating. “Take a bite.” He orders. But Kuroo is unsure who he is talking to.

Lev steps forward, as expected, and excuses himself as he picks up a cutlery from the table and takes a small bite of the lamb meat from the plate.

Kuroo observes how he stares at Lev while a huge frown is painted on his face. He stares at how his highness does not take his eyes off the squire when Lev chewed and ingested the piece he’s taken. Kuroo observes how he let a few minutes pass, not talking, just looking at his friend, eyes calculating. Kuroo might be overanalyzing the Prince but he discerns the impatience in his highness’ eyes, the little shaken breath he’s let out, a clenching jaw that confirms Kuroo’s assumption the Prince is actually anxious about something.

If Kuroo hasn’t had years of observing his victims in the streets of Edo, figuring out perceptible ones and the ones who wouldn’t feel a bit the moment Kuroo inserts his hand in their pockets, he wouldn’t be able to see through him. The Prince has a good way of making it seem like he’s got himself together. But Kuroo can see the little things that’s driving him at his very edge. Kuroo can read him.

“It’s not poisoned, your highness.” Kuroo says when the silence becomes a little unbearable. Kenma looks at him with surprise that he easily suppresses from appearing on his face, and Lev’s eyes widens in alarm. If it were poisoned, Lev would have already felt a headache come and a tightening to his throat. But this is only if it is a poison made by humans put in the food. If it’s a magical poison, Lev would’ve been dead in an instant. But none of these happened to Lev.

“Good.” Kenma says and sits on the chair, taking the cutlery and bites a huge piece of the lamb steak. For a good while, Kuroo and Lev stand in front as the Prince finishes his meal in huge bites, like he hasn’t eaten for days. There’s relief on his face with every chew on his meal, and Kuroo can’t help but feel at ease, as the small amount of food he’s taking is slowly bringing back color to his highness’ face.

Once done with his food, he stands up from where he’s seating and faces his guards. “Starting on this day, you,” he points to Lev. “You shall take a bite of everything I eat.”

Lev only nods, suddenly afraid of the repercussions of the request of his highness. But the Prince has requested for him, specifically. It’s very rare for squires to have this opportunity so if it meant having to risk his life with every bite of the Prince’s meals, then he shall die in honor of his highness. “It would be my honor to serve you, your highness.”

“And you,” the Prince turns to Kuroo, ignoring Lev’s gratitude. “Bring me a branch of an apameian tree just a few meters off the moat. It shall be easy to acquire.”

Kuroo only nods at him, even if he doesn’t understand why he has to fetch a branch of a tree as his first task as a royal guard. It’s confusing Kuroo, though whatever is his highness’ objective with a poisonous tree branch shall not be his business. Besides, lowly guards have no right to question the royal family. 

**_His royal highness Kozume Kenma, seventh son of the current century’s King Nekomata. 13. Alive._ **

Kenma stares at the tree branch lying on his desk. The soldier he sent out who goes by Kuroo—deep jetblack eyes as the color of his hair, far too tall for his age, sharp nose and jawline—arrived earlier than he expected. It’s also the same soldier who was able to see through him hours ago that sent an angry spark through his veins. Of all people, why would someone who would know his very fear be a low-ranking squire?

Shaking the thoughts off his head, he walks away from the table and goes to the cupboards beside his study. Inside the lowest right compartment is a pot and a pestle he’s asked one of the maids to bring him the day before. The earthenware is pretty small in his hands, but he supposes it would be big enough to hold the amount he would need for what he’s planning to do.

Going back to the tree branch, Kenma takes the healthiest leaves and throws away the drying ones. The healthier the leaves are, the more potent the solution will be. Once done picking, he starts to grind the pestle into the pot with the most strength he could muster, shifting from one hand to another when it gets too tiring to crush the leaves. When the solution turns into a mushy texture after a long while, he stops and massages his hands, feeling the exhaustion on his wrist.

Kenma looks at the pot of mushy crushed leaves and wrinkles his nose at the pungent smell of the poisonous mix. While he’s unsure if this is the poison that was put in his food he ingested two days ago, this particular one should work. Originally from a neighboring country, an apameian tree’s leaves are highly poisonous, yet there’s an abundance of it across the Kingdom.

Taking another peek at the pot, he hesitates if he’s crushed it enough. Shall he make it more mushy? Will it not work if it ends up being too crushed? Kenma mentally slaps himself from overthinking the entire process. From what he can remember, as long as it’s in pieces ingestible by mouth, it should work fine. He should constantly remind himself to stop being so anxious about everything. The night he got poisoned, he vomited everything so fast and hard that even acids from his stomach came out. This continued for the following days where Kenma found himself too paranoid to take in anything. He refused to eat or drink. He relied on water from the tap on the loo attached to his quarters. But it could only sustain him for so long. After forty eight hours of not eating anything and vomiting all contents from his stomach, he decided to seek for the King. However, his request for protection from the knights was too ridiculous for his father to allow.

_“What would you need the knights for? There is no threat to your life, son. Let General Ukai accompany you to the squire halls. That should do.”_

Kenma was not even able to respond and explain before the guards pulled him out of the throne room. If he were not feeling sick and lightheaded, he would’ve retaliated, he would have told his father that he was poisoned the night of his birthday. 

That doesn’t matter anymore, though. He’s already tasked a squire to check for poison on his meals, and at the same time these men will guard his doors, through night and day. He shall be safe for now.

Kenma knows having two barely trained squires isn’t something to depend on. These are kids, barely a year older than him, and they haven’t had much experience in serving royalties either. This is why he created the apameian poison. Kenma could never trust anyone. Not these squires. Not his family. There’s only himself to count on.

**_Kuroo Tetsurou, appointed royal guard to his highness Kozume Kenma. 14. Awake at night._ **

Kuroo should have never let Lev take the day shift of guarding the doors of the Prince. However, it’s not an option for any of them since Lev is tasked to do the food tasting for his highness. And while it sucks to stay awake through the entire night alone, in retrospect, it seems better than to suddenly drop dead from poisoning. He does not wish it to happen to Lev, he never wishes danger for his possibly only friend during his squirehood, but he has less chances of surviving anywhere else compared to the silver-haired guy. 

Kuroo’s thoughts get disturbed as he hears a loud thud coming from the Prince’s room. Without any hesitation, he opens the door and sees his highness lying on the ground, writhing in pain as he grunts into the patterned carpet.

“Your highness!” He calls out and kneels next to Kenma, he turns the Prince on his back and is about to reach out and check his pulse until he sees the veins on his neck creeping all the way up to his jaw, its hue a dangerous plum. Poison. The prince has been poisoned.

Kuroo remembers that the Prince ordered him to bring back an apameian branch earlier today. It’s highly poisonous that even animals in the wild die from eating its fruit or leaves. The apameian leaves are used for torturing prisoners, a slow-killing poison that takes days until it fully kills the person who takes it. Is this why the Prince asked him to bring it? Did he plan on killing himself?

“Your highness, I will call for the healer, please stay—” He gets cut off as he feels a hand grip his arm.

“Don’t...” Kenma chokes out, and Kuroo almost gasps at the angry look on his eyes.

“Did you... Did you poison yourself, your highness?”

Kenma nods and tries to stand up, however, the poison leaves him so lightheaded with an unequal breathing, his senses and coordination get harder to control so he stumbles back down. Kuroo is able to catch him just in time, hand on Kenma’s back and waist. He lifts Kenma up, carrying him effortlessly into his highness’ bed.

Kenma sits on the bed and gives the squire a strange look. It’s very unusual for royalties to let people of lower class touch them so casually, and while the feeling of being touched and assisted is not uncomfortable as Kenma thought it would have been, he still feels displaced at how his skin burns on the places where Kuroo touched him.

“Your highness, do you need a glass of water?” The squire asks once more and Kenma shakes his head. Kuroo looks very worried, and it’s doing weird kicks in Kenma’s stomach because no one has ever looked at him with that emotion before. It’s annoying.

“No.” He says firmly this time.

“But the poison, your highness. It must stop...” Kuroo pauses at the sudden realization. A poison ingested must be vomited out in order for the poison not so spread in his body. However, Kenma is trying so hard to keep still, letting the poison enter his body. Does this mean...

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do,” Kenma says, and Kuroo can sense the confusion and anger in his voice. “But as a lowly... soldier... whatever I do is none of your business.” Kenma chokes in between his words.

“Pardon me, your highness,” Kuroo says, but much slower, voice lowered. “But are you trying to make yourself resistant from the poison?”

Kenma clenches his jaw. Unable to deny or confirm anything, the Prince looks down and stays silent, heaving in his breathing as a side effect of the poison.

“I knew it.” Kuroo confirms to himself and stares at the Prince. “What were you thinking?”

“Save your insolence for another day, lowly squire. I am the Prince, and I can do whatever I want—”

“I know, your highness. And I apologize for my rude behavior. But as long as I stand behind your door, my oath is to protect you.” Kuroo cuts him off. “If you’re going to make yourself immune to poison, you should do it the right way.”

Kenma’s eyes widens at the squire and looks at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“How much poison did you ingest tonight?” Kuroo asks instead.

Kenma hesitates to answer at first, but he eventually gives the squire an answer. “A full teaspoon.”

“Your highness,” Kuroo leans into the Prince. “You’ll be dead in a few days from now if you keep doing that.”

“What do you know about poisons, then?” Kenma asks. He refuses to let his walls down in front of the dark-haired squire.

“I grew up a thief, your highness.” Kuroo walks away from the bed and goes to the tea table where a pot of freshly crushed apameian leaves. “I didn’t just steal food and clothing from the market, I also stole information. That’s how life was for me. Poisons are like sand in the beach of a market.”

“How do I do it?” Kenma asks, looking intently at Kuroo who’s inspecting the poison. “Tell me.”

“First, ingesting a huge amount of crushed leaves will kill you eventually.” Kuroo picks up the pot and waves it at Kenma. “I’ll have this sieved for you. A teardrop of this poison after every meal shall be enough. That way, you’ll experience the least side effect and slowly let your body get accustomed to the poison. It’s going to take a while, say a year or two.”

“And what if I get poisoned again before my body fully adjusts to the poison?” Kenma asks, and for the first time that night, worry flashes in his eyes.

“Again? So you’ve been poisoned before? Is this why you sought protection? Why you were so anxious and scared?” His eyebrows furrow as he puts the pot back onto the table and sits beside the prince. “Why take us then? Some ‘lowly’ squires if your life is being threatened?”

“You’re not my friend, _lowly squire_ , my affairs are not your business. Learn how to shut up.” The Prince threatens Kuroo.

“Apologies, your highness. But I believe the purpose of this immunity is to survive, and not to end your life. I am merely helping you out.”

Kenma only shoots him a piercing look and says nothing else about Kuroo’s ‘concerns.’ “Sieve the poison for me. Find a container I can hide it in. That’s your task for tonight.”

Kuroo chuckles at the Prince’s stubbornness, realizing that he’s seeing so much of himself in Kenma. “Sure, your highness.” Kuroo gets up from the bed and takes the pot from the table, but as he’s about to step out of the room, Kenma calls, making Kuroo turn to him.

“Wait.” Kenma says. “One more thing.”

“Yes, your highness?”

“Just call me Kenma.” The Prince says and he lies down slowly, pushing himself up the bed so his head could reach the pillow.

Kuroo can’t help the smile that appears on his face. 

_Kenma_. That rolls nicely on his tongue.

_Kenma._


End file.
